My neck strains to keep my chin up while pessimism yanks on my jaw. I'm tip-toeing the fine line between collected, actionable optimism and bottomless uncertainty.
I miss not having every thing I do expected to be funny, or feeling that such work can't go up on a comedy theater's stage. We're all going through some fucking shit right now, so can we not sweep it under the rug with a bit?
"Anything?" Kathryn whispered, barely audible.
Across the clearing, Trent slowly shook his head. Nothing from him.
Suddenly, a whistling pierced the forest's still air. The ground ahead of Kathryn exploded into a spray of earth and splintered wood. Slabs of rock blew off the ridge above. Gwen flashed through the air as she manipulated time to cushion her fall and avoid projectiles.
Abigail played until her fingers were sore. She'd much rather be out in the garden catching frogs with the boys, but ladies didn't catch frogs, which Abigail was reminded every week or so.
Michael woke up every morning to Broken Back outside his window, sliced up by the horizontal blinds. At dawn, the mountains retained night's purple hue until daylight warmed that away to snow-capped gray. Every morning, Michael curled himself under his toasty comforter to watch the mountains melt.
We're a generation who saw the Chamber of Secrets opened, dementors attack our Quidditch matches, Cedric Diggory die, and Umbridge turn our school into an institution we didn't recognize.
I miss writers' groups and workshopping stories. That was my favorite part of college.
My favorite stories are those that show people breaking out of the labels/status they have forced upon them.
Tonight, my brother and I made French toast, scrambled eggs, and bacon for dinner for our family. As the days trudge on, we felt breakfast for dinner would lift spirits. Plus, we bought a lot of bread when we first went shopping two weeks ago and wanted to use it up. I improvised with the … Continue reading French Toast
Luanne wiped down the counter one last time. In its speckled, glossy finish, the hanging neon lights and donated license plates became a sea. A sea of memories and laughs with old friends.